


Taste

by carriedawayfromhome



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-25 17:14:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20915657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carriedawayfromhome/pseuds/carriedawayfromhome
Summary: In which Michael finds himself at a loss of how to fix this situation he’s inevitable walked himself into.





	Taste

Michael watches anxiously as you filter from person to person, mingling with a glass of wine in your hand. He’s not sure how many you have had, but you’re still steady on your feet, so he’s not too worried. As for him, well he’s been nursing his beer for the last hour, trying to mingle with the guests at this wedding, smiling politely when someone asks him a question. 

You haven’t spoken to him since you two arrived earlier in the day, the car ride was silent, Michael occasionally glancing over to you in hopes that you would look his way as well. You two didn’t fight often, or at all really, but yesterday he had really messed up. The meeting was at nine yesterday morning, it was meant to be you, Michael and the mortgage broker. He couldn’t sleep the night before, the restless butterflies making a home in his stomach, for some reason the thought of buying a home with you scared him, it meant finality, it meant commitment. He loved you, there was no doubt in his mind, but he just didn’t know if he wanted to make that leap with you, it made him ridiculously nervous.

Michael had woken up that morning after finally getting to sleep and had laid in bed, eyes fixated on the ceiling, you were already up and at the gym, a note on the bed side table informing him that you would see him at the meeting with two small x’s to finish. You were so eager to start your new life with your boyfriend, buying a house together, then hopefully not long after a dog would follow.

Michael had eventually gotten out of bed, gotten dressed and had stuffed a protein bar into his mouth and tiredly walked his way down the pathway to his car, though as he had gotten into the drivers seat, key in ignition a sudden wave of panic rose over his entire body, hands gripping the steering wheel. As quickly as he had gotten into the car he had gotten out, running back in through the front door, abandoning the car keys on the counter. He hadn’t bothered taking off his clothes, he just dove straight back into bed, the dread inside him sinking deep into the mattress below him.

That night had been a flurry of words and yells, you had never felt so embarrassed or angry in your entire life, no calls, no texts from your boyfriend saying where he was, at first you thought maybe he had been in an accident and was worried sick, until you had left the meeting extremely apologetic, only to find your boyfriend under the covers on the bed where you had left him.

You were furious and mainly confused, you thought he wanted it, he had agreed to come to the appointment to sign for a loan, but no, apparently you had heard wrong. Mainly you were disappointed that your boyfriend wouldn’t come to you to let you know if he didn’t want to make this decision with you, that’s all it would have taken, just a quick conversation. After the fight you had stopped speaking to him, now you find yourself trying to stay busy with the guests at your friends wedding, anything to keep your mind off of him.

You had made a few sad glances over to your boyfriend throughout the night, he was always in the same place, same beer in hand, same expression across his face. He was always looking at you when you made a peek at him, a tiny somber smile would appear, a look in his eyes as if hopeful you would disregard the people in the room and make your way to him. But it didn’t work, you were still too angry to make conversation just yet.

Michael sighs just after finishing his beer, the taste feeling sour in his mouth, he tries to decide if he wants to risk grabbing another, if only to have something to do with his hands whilst watching you still make your way around the guests. He can’t remember feeling this sorry for quite a long time, he never liked confrontation, always liked things to be easy and smooth, preferably no bumps along the way.

He places the empty beer bottle on a table as he notices you excuse yourself, walking towards the bathroom stalls, before he thinks it through too much he follows quickly behind you, weaving in between well dressed guests. He watches as your long silky dress disappears behind a wall, Michael following hastily in your footsteps. He watches as you dart into a bathroom and before you can lock it, Michael runs straight in, locking the door behind him.

You stare at him incredulously, “Michael!” You whisper yell at him, “What the hell are you doing?”

He takes a moment, slightly out of breath from trying to catch up to you, his eyes watching your angry face, your arms crossed over your middle. Michael straightens up and realises he didn’t think up anything to say in this situation and now he’s lost for words.

After a moment of silence you roll your eyes, huffing slightly, “Michael please leave, I need to use the bathroom.”

As you turn to walk towards the stalls Michael’s hand grabs onto your elbow, spinning you back around to him, you’re about to tell him to get out once more, before he’s kissing you firmly, arms latched onto your hips.

You pull away, more anger surging through you, “Michael! For fucks sake.” But you don’t get a chance to continue that sentence as pushes you towards the bathroom door, a little more rough than usual and your head stings where it hits the hard surface. His lips are now back on yours and your hands go up to his chest, pushing against the skin.

“Michael, I don’t want to have sex in this bathroom at my friends wedding!” You’re still trying to keep your voice down, not wanting to suddenly hear a knock at the door. Michael still doesn’t say anything, his eyes boring into yours.

He kisses you again, this time though you let yourself relax into his touch, you haven’t kissed him since early yesterday and even though that’s not that long ago, you still miss his touch against you, you’re still angry at what he did, but you let him hold you, let him take away that stress for a moment.

You both kiss for another moment, your hands coming up to tangle in his hair, his hands resting on your waist, the silky dress underneath feels amazing underneath his fingers. Michael’s lips start to trail down your neck, only light kisses there ensuring no marks are left. His hands are starting to grab at your thighs and you push him back once again, “Michael, please, I don’t want to have sex….”

He stops you with a finger on your lips, a small smile on his face. He still doesn’t say anything as he bends down slightly, letting his fingers dance down your thighs, down to your ankles and to the hem of your dress, bringing it with him as he stands again, you look at him in confusion when he places the hem of your own dress in your hands. He then bends down onto his knees and that’s when your breath starts to quicken and you subconsciously let your legs part, your hands tightly gripping the bottom of your dress.

He leans forward, kissing the area around your underwear, your heat starting to build within your white lace underwear. He licks a thick strip on the outside of the material and the anticipation makes your stomach jump, one of your hands going to his head, a slight urgency in your grip. He takes the hint, moving your underwear to the side so he can lick right up between you, a small sound escaping your mouth. You let your head fall back against the door as Michael continues on, licking up to then suck, your fingers tightening in his hair.

You tug, hoping to let him know to speed up, usually when Michael is between your legs he loves to make the moment last for as long as humanly possible, drawing out every lick and suck and making you squirm. Usually the thought of getting caught in different situations would make you wetter, but the thought of getting caught at a wedding doesn’t sound like something you want to experience tonight. Michael continues on a little quicker this time, having now pulled your underwear down to your ankles, he adds two fingers into you not giving you a chance to adjust, he knows you can handle it, his tongue works expertly over your most sensitive area, a few tiny moans echoing through the empty bathroom.

It doesn’t take long for you to feel the familiar tug form in your stomach and you whisper Michaels name and you almost feel him smile against you, he continues his pace, not changing it up to ensure he can bring you to your climax as soon as possible. A few moments later the feeling washes over you, your back arching into Michael’s touch as he helps you through it, his tongue slipping out every now and again to kiss your now oversensitive areas, your hand holding hard onto the back of Michael’s neck.

As you start to come down from your high, you feel Michael pull your underwear back up your thighs, making sure they’re sitting comfortably. He stands up level to you, as you let your dress fall back down, the light fabric resting against your ankles.

Michael smiles softly, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm, adjusting his suit to make it seem as though he didn’t just make you cum in the ladies bathroom.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, “I was scared about buying a house with you, I’m not sure if I’m ready for that.”

You nod at him, your hand coming up to cup his cheek, smiling at him softly. He leans forward to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his lips, the feeling almost making the heat between your legs start up again.

Michael pulls back, only to lean forward and lick at your lips, “God you taste amazing.” He whispers into your skin, hands snaking around to unlock the door, opening it just enough for him to wink at you and exit out into the room full of guests.

The door clicks back into place as you shake your head, a laugh bubbling up, “That boy I swear.” You whisper into the empty room, the anger starting to dissipate within you.


End file.
